had a piece of sugar steeped in
coffee--she produced cigarettes, and made him light his cigarette at
hers, and put her elbows on the table and looked at his ears. She was
still wearing the apron, which appeared to Henry to be an apron of
ineffable grace.

'So you are _fiance, mon petit_? Eh?' she said.

'Who told you?' Henry asked quickly. 'Tom?'

She nodded; then sighed. He was instructed to describe Geraldine in
detail. Cosette sighed once more.

'Why do you sigh?' he demanded.

'Who knows?' she answered. '_Dites!_ English ladies are cold? Like
that?' She affected the supercilious gestures of Englishwomen whom she
had seen in the streets and elsewhere. 'No?'

'Perhaps,' Henry said.

'Frenchwomen are better? Yes? _Dites-moi franchement._ You think?'

'In some ways,' Henry agreed.

'You like Frenchwomen more than those cold Englishwomen who have no
_chic_?'

'When I'm in Paris I do,' said Henry.

'_Ah! Comme tous les Anglais!_'

She rose, and just grazed his ear with her little finger. '_Va!_' she
said.

He felt that she was beyond anything in his previous experience.

A little later she told him she had to go to the Scala to sign her
contract, and she issued an order that he was to take Mimisse out for a
little exercise, and return for her in half an hour, when she would be
dressed. So Henry went forth with Mimisse at the end of a strap.

In the Boulevard de Clichy who should accost him but Tom, whom he had
left asleep as usual at the hotel!

'What dog is that?' Tom asked.

'Cosette's,' said Henry, unsuccessfully trying to assume a demeanour at
once natural and tranquil.

'My young friend,' said Tom, 'I perceive that it will be necessary to
look after you. I was just going to my studio, but I will accompany you
in your divagations.'

They returned to the Rue de Bruxelles together. Cosette was dressed in
all her afternoon splendour, for the undoing of theatrical managers.
The role of woman _pot-au-feu_ was finished for that day.

'I'm off to Monte Carlo to-morrow,' said Tom to her. 'I'm going to paint
a portrait there. And Henry will come with me.'

'To Monte Carlo?' Henry gasped.

'To Monte Carlo.'

'But----'

'Do you suppose I'm going to leave you here?' Tom inquired. 'And you
can't return to London yet.'

'No,' said Cosette thoughtfully, 'not London.'

They left her in the Boulevard de Strasbourg, and then Tom suggested a
visit to the Luxembourg Gallery. It was true: a life-sized